


Our Secret Game

by tsar_saltans_swan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Bisexual Anakin Skywalker, Body Worship, Circle Jerk, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oops I'm Bi Now, just dudes being bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsar_saltans_swan/pseuds/tsar_saltans_swan
Summary: During a sleepless night on Batuu, Jedi Commander Anakin Skywalker and Lieutenant Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo decide to have a friendly competition...





	Our Secret Game

**Author's Note:**

> For @anakinkster on Twitter, whose horny tweets inspired this masterpiece. Go check them out here: https://twitter.com/anakinkster  
> 7/26/19 update: Edits and bug fixes.  
> 3/25/20 update: Bug fixes, edits to match up with current Chiss dictionary.

It wasn’t often that barracks were quiet. Even at 0100 in Batuu time, they usually bustled with the sounds of chatter, running ‘freshers, the synchronized footsteps of clone regiments going out to the battlefield, and the careful slipping on and off of uniforms and armor. That night (or perhaps that morning), however, the Republic Barracks just outside of Black Spire Outpost had gone completely silent. Most of the clone soldiers were asleep in their respective quarters; if you were very quiet, the deep gentle breaths of those who were slumbering could be heard. Some had gone out for the night to drink at Oga’s Cantina, famous for being open late during times of war; again, if you perked up your ears and ignored the nightbirds and crickets singing in the trees, you could here faint laughter and the quiet rumbling bass of amplified jizz music. However, there were only two Republic personnel who weren’t asleep or drinking, though they wished they could.

Jedi Commander Anakin Skywalker and Lieutenant Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo were lying awake and sober in their shared quarters. A deathlike silence filled the room and the space between them, the only sounds in the air were the sound of their breaths and the shuffling of standard issue pajamas.

“You tired?” Anakin asked.

Thrawn turned to him with a slouch and a wistful look in his eye. “Sort of. I’m not sure how I’m feeling, really,” Thrawn replied. “And you?”

“Lonely,” Anakin sighed. “I miss Padmé. She’s off doing the Central Summit with the Senate on Coruscant.”

“From what I’ve seen of it, the conversation at any Senate meeting is just a self congratulatory game of Sikusi’maru.”

“Sikusi’maru? What’s that?”

“It’s a Chiss practice. Perhaps you’re familliar with it. Literally translated, it means ‘dick circle’. That should tell you all you need to know.”

“So like a circle jerk?”

“I would assume so. As I was saying: it is a lot like a political circle jerk. Underworld this, aliens that, everyone sitting around and kissing each others asses, being everyone else's 'yes man'. But Padmé? She doesn’t take any of their... k'tah, what's the word?

"Bullshit."

"Ah, thank you. As much as it pains me to say it, expletives in Basic still elude me. Anyway, about Padmé?" Thrawn leaned over and transitioned his words into a whisper. "Just between you and me, you got very lucky.”

“Yup. Definitely lucky. If you ask me, I’m only here and breathing because of luck.” Anakin beamed with self-deprecating pride, then looked at Thrawn, whose body was bowed against the barrack wall. His sly grin turned disappeared as knitted brows took their place. “Hey, you look kinda down in the dumps, too. Are you missing anyone?”

“Eli Vanto. My boyfriend.” Thrawn exhaled. “I’ve probably already told you this, but he’s on Csilla serving in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force; he’s only been gone for six months, but I miss him so much…”

“Ah, Eli. I think I’ve heard you talk about him. You speak so highly about him; you must really love him, don’t you?”

“I do. I would call him my boyfriend, but... somehow, that doesn't feel strong enough. He’s my heart, my world, _mus’ros’chah…_ ”

“ _Mus'ros'chah?_ " Anakin stumbled over the short glottal stops as he said the foreign word. "What’s that mean?”

“When loosely translated, it means ‘the red flame of my heart’. In Chiss culture, when you love someone, you’re truly committed to them. There’s not a word that truly equates to ‘boyfriend’ in Cheunh, so we have to circumlocute with pet names.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

After that, the deathlike silence that filled the room before returned, this time a little thinner and more penetrable than before. A couple of minutes passed before Anakin, craving the quiet companionship that Thrawn was always happy to offer, piped up.

“Hey! You wanna do that Sikusi’maru thing you were talking about?”

“Sikusi’maru? Is there a reason?”

“Well, there isn’t anything better to do, and both of our partners are gone…”

“Aren’t you married, Anakin? What’s more, you said you were straight. I wouldn’t force you to do something you’re not completely comfortable with.”

“Hey, I’m perfectly comfortable with it! We’re not having sex; just a friendly little tug race, that’s all. Besides, it isn’t gay if nothing is in our butts and our balls don’t touch, right?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Then let’s do it! So, how does it work where you’re from?”

“First rule; you must take all clothes off, even your underpants. No part of your body should be covered.”

“Alright, let’s get stripped then.”

The black standard issue pajamas that kept them both modest were slowly slipped off. First, the long sleeved shirt, revealing well built chests and slim bellies with just enough fat to hide their abs, as well as sculpted shoulder blades and biceps; then, the long pants, unveiling faint happy trails, hips, thighs, knees, shins, calves, and ankles. The removal of thin cotton socks further revealed feet with calloused heels and writhing toes. The icing on the cake, though, was the removal of their boxers, showing muscular asses and half-hard cocks similar in size.

“So, we’re naked. What next?”

“Put some lotion on your dominant hand. On my count, start pleasuring yourself. The first one to come has to help the other along. That’s Sikusi’maru.”

“Alright, let’s do it!”

Before he even started the countdown, Thrawn was having second thoughts. For the past month, Eli was all he could think about; as much as he missed Eli, though, he was far away from him. Anakin was the next best thing. He was sexy, for sure; the rounded slimness of his chest and stomach reminded him of those exact same spots on Eli. What’s more, he was strong and masculine. Anakin could take him and ride him until he was just as blue in the face as he was. Anakin, however, was straight. He was also a married man, forever betrothed to Padmé. But Anakin was very clearly comfortable with the idea jacking off in front of colleagues while they also pleasured themselves, almost as if he had done it before. He was the one that asked for a game of Sikusi’maru. He asked how it worked, and the first step was already done and through. They had passed the event horizon of this meat beat mania; There was no turning back now.

“Three…”

Both took a deep breath through their noses, hoping the air coming in would whisk away the prudish qualities that they had shown each other before this moment.

“Two…”

Each took a large bead of lotion in their right hand and steadied it on the base of their respective dicks.

“One…”

This was it. They were playing Sikusi’maru.

“Go.”

Both started jacking wildly in a bold, out of the gate attempt to come first. After realizing that wasn’t going to happen, they slowed down and took a comfortable, steady pace. The warm, electric sensations that usually came with masturbation began running up and down their bodies. Each tried to focus on their own cock as they jacked, but it wasn’t long before their eyes started drifting towards each other.

As Anakin tugged, he found himself looking up and down Thrawn’s body. Aside from the skin color, it wasn’t too dissimilar from his own. Nearly everyone in the Republic Army had the same athletic body type, but there was just something about Thrawn’s body that did something to him, made something awaken inside him. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself; always with a perfect military posture, his back never slouching, his feet never faltering. Perhaps it was a certain part of him that made him so alluring. Was it his glowing eyes? His peachy lips? His aquiline nose, even? No, he’d seen enough of his face to know that wasn’t the case. He’d also seen enough of him shirtless to know that his torso, back and arms weren’t the problem either. Legs and feet on men didn’t satisfy him as much as they could on women, so could it be… no. He was a married man, the straightest straight to ever be straight in the galaxy’s history of straightness. There’s no way he could be salivating over, no, jacking to a man’s cock, much less the pointed, prostate-seeking, prehensile cock of a Chiss who slept with men. But here he was, proving himself wrong, stroking his own as it’s one weeping eye met his gaze.

The motions of their palms on their dicks were speeding up. Steady, vigorous up and downs were now sending seismic shocks of heat and pleasure through their entire bodies. _This shouldn’t be happening,_ they thought, their inner voices echoing the same desperate cry. _They had eyes for other people, not each other. It was dirty, shameful, and wrong_. These thoughts only added fuel to the monstrous blaze of libido roaring and searing inside them, drowning out any shame or guilt the two might have felt. Neither of them knew whether finishing first was something to aim for or something they should dread; all they knew was that they were hotter, hungrier, aching with desire for each other.

Thrawn’s eyes scanned every inch of his competitor. Anakin’s entire body tensed with every downward motion of his hand on his shaft. With every gasp sucked in through clenched teeth, his chest billowed, his toes curled, and his ass clenched, showing it’s little dimples. Oh, that ass, that perfect, muscular ass. The sight of it alone could make him come on the spot. He wanted to touch it, examine it like a fine piece of art, and if Anakin would let him, even do a little bit of exploring himself. There were so many parts of him that he wanted to get to know, to examine, to show his affection for. His quads and calves were beautifully sculpted masterpieces that could put marble statues of the mythic heroes of Naboo to shame, and oh how he wanted to run his hands over them, feeling the tensing and relaxing of the musculature beneath. His feet, though calloused and battle worn from many hours in standard issue boots, were as beautiful as any you’d find in a painting. He would love to worship the commander’s feet as if he was groveling at the feet of a god, planting gentle kisses along the well sculpted tendons and nibbling and sucking at the well sculpted toes. He wanted to nibble on his colleague’s ears and kiss his turned up nose. Thrawn wondered what Anakin’s skin felt like against his own, what he smelled like, what he tasted like. He wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him. It was very simple; he was _art_. Unlike the art which adorned the halls of museums, this was a person; the art in front of him had to consent. Of course he could ask, but why would he bother asking? He couldn’t. He could never. Anakin would probably reject his request outright, perhaps even laugh; however, it was a chance he just had to take.

They were racing now, back to the bold, out of the gate pace that they had started with. The sensations running up and down their bodies were burning now, almost like an electric maverick that drove them wilder with every crest, crash and trough. 

“Anakin?” Thrawn asked between heavy gasps of breath. 

Anakin mumbled something that had the cadence of an “uh-huh” as he bit back a moan.

“While we were… doing this… I thought… “ He sucked air through his teeth as he tried to keep himself going a little longer. 

Anakin, now biting his tongue, nodded briskly in agreement.

“I think… you’re so beautiful,” he bit out through each pant. “You’re like a living piece of art, so perfect and god-like and… _ktah_ , I want you.”

Anakin shivered. “Well, that’s funny, because…” He huffed. “---I was going to say the same thing.”

Thrawn’s eyes widened. Anakin wanted what he wanted? No. It wasn’t possible.

“Please, Thrawn,” he huffed with a catch in his throat. “I need you.”

That was it. He couldn’t take it any more. Thrawn moaned as a load of white hot come spilled out onto his stomach and chest. It wasn’t long after when Anakin came as well. Both laid silent on their respective beds for a while, with nothing to aid their descent but the sound of their own breath, heavy and labored.

“Hey.” Anakin finally piped up, trying to keep a tired wheeze out of his words. “Good game. I’m impressed!”

“Thank you,” Thrawn replied. “I’d say the same about you.”

“Pfft, that? That was nothing. You should see me when I do this kind of thing with the 501st. I haven’t been beaten yet! So, ready for round two?”

Silence. Thrawn cocked his head like a curious bird as he looked vacantly to the right. “Let’s do it in the morning,” he said as he finally made his decision. “We have one more day on shore leave here. We’ll have time then.”

The rhythm of their breaths had calmed now, now settling into a gentle ebb and flow.

“So, what you said about needing me-- is that really true?”

“Of course! I mean, I don’t know about my stance on men in general, but you in particular… just, you’re super fucking hot, and I would gladly bang you any day of the week! I mean it!”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah! Wait, are you feeling different? Because if you are, it’s perfectly fine--”

“No, not at all, it’s just… I’m worried.”

“About Eli?”

“You read my mind.”

“I am a Jedi, after all! Joking aside, though, I am too.” Anakin’s grin morphed into a sad downward glance. “If Padme finds out about this, my ass will be _grass_.”

“This will stay a secret for both of us. Please promise me that.”

“I won’t tell; Jedi’s honor. Can you say the same, though?”

“Yes. _Mus’chah’cav'cas'bol’se suru rehaturu.”_

“What does that mean?”

“My lips are sealed.”


End file.
